# Scent-Trapped Alpha

Author: Ember Nightshade
Site: ReadNovelHub
Canonical: https://readnovelhub.com/novel/scent-trapped-alpha
Genre: Billionaire-CEO

## World
His Abused Mate

## Tropes
- Alpha Male
- Werewolf Shifter
- Forced Proximity
- Billionaire Romance
- Revenge Romance
- Dark Academia
- #darkacademia

## FAQ
### What is Scent-Trapped Alpha about?
His Abused Mate

### Who is the author of Scent-Trapped Alpha?
Scent-Trapped Alpha is written by Ember Nightshade. Read Chapter 1 free on ReadNovelHub.

### Is Scent-Trapped Alpha a Alpha Male story?
Yes. Scent-Trapped Alpha is tagged for Alpha Male, Werewolf Shifter, Forced Proximity readers looking for North American romance-fantasy tropes.

### Can I read Scent-Trapped Alpha Chapter 1 for free?
Yes. Chapter 1-5 Free. Chapter 6+ unlocked via Ads or a $0.00 trial. Start Scent-Trapped Alpha on ReadNovelHub.

### What happens at the start of Scent-Trapped Alpha?
They're draining me again. I can feel it starting in my fingertips—that cold pull, like someone's yanking thread out of my bones. Uncle Lin doesn't even bother with the needles anymore.

## Chapter 1 teaser
### He Walked Past My Cell

They're draining me again. I can feel it starting in my fingertips—that cold pull, like someone's yanking thread out of my bones. Uncle Lin doesn't even bother with the needles anymore. He just shoves his palm against my chest and takes what he wants. "Hold still," he says. Like I have a choice. Like the iron cuffs around my wrists give me any option but to sit here and let him bleed my spirit root dry. I don't scream this time. Learned that lesson three years ago. The room they keep me in isn't even a real room—it's a storage closet they cleared out, shoved a cot in the corner, and called it my quarters. Servant quarters. Except servants get paid. Servants get days off. I get my cousin Lin Yuan's dirty laundry and a kick if I fold it wrong. Uncle pulls his hand back and I sag forward, gasping. My chest feels hollow. Empty. He wipes his palm on his robe like I'm something dirty he touched. "You're getting weaker," he says. "Sorry to disappoint." He backhands me. I taste copper. "Watch your mouth, girl. You're only alive because your root's still pure." He leans down, his breath hot on my face. "Barely. Another year of this and you'll be worthless." Good, I think. But I don't say it. I learned that lesson too. He leaves. Locks the door. I curl up on the cot and press my palm to my ribs, feeling for the little knot of energy that's still mine. Still there. Smaller every time, but still there. Mom used to tell me stories about spirit roots. How they were gifts from the heavens, how cultivators spent lifetimes nurturing them, how a pure Yin root like mine was rarer than phoenix feathers. She said I'd be powerful one day. She didn't say I'd be a battery for my uncle's alchemy experiments. She also didn't say she'd die in the dungeon three years ago, screaming for someone to 

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